Bludger
by Linali
Summary: Just going to be a funny little story about Oliver Wood, and how he met his wife.


Author's Note: My sister and I came up with this rather amusing scenario one day when we were discussing Harry Potter. At any rate, I hope you enjoy.   
  
~Bludger~  
  
"C'mon, dad, I don't know why you even married her." The girl teased, her green eyes sparkling,   
"I mean, all you two ever do is fight."   
  
The man laughed, shaking his head,   
"I don't know either. I was smacked in the head with a bludger, and next thing I know here I am, married with two kids. How's that work?" he teased back, ruffling the girl's dirty blonde hair. She was twenty years old now, and her brother eighteen. It was strange how the time always seemed to fly by.   
  
"Wow. Remind me never to get smacked with a bludger," the girl commented. Her father swatted her on the shoulder,  
"You don't have to worry about that very much, Cassie, you're a Seeker. Most Seekers don't get smacked with bludgers."   
  
"Good, I'd hate to wake up married with two kids like you." She grinned widely. The man shook his head, standing up.   
"At any rate, I suppose I'd better go check out what your mother's up to." He ruffled his son's hair as well on the way out.   
  
It was interesting, of course, the memories they'd sparked. Of how he'd first met Janet, and how he'd decided to marry her. Unorthodox was only the beginning of describing the strangeness of how it all had come to pass, and he'd been telling the truth about the bludger.   
  
~~~  
Oliver Wood walked through the grasses of the Quidditch field, getting a feel for the place. He'd been moved from the Reserve team a few years ago, and then had been playing for England as their Keeper. In the past few years he'd really gotten to know the team, and was quite enjoying the games more than he probably should have.   
  
Currently, they were on tour in America, and he was actually rather liking the whole place. It was different, of course, and most of the locals had horrible accents, but it was fun, seeing other countries. He'd been through Australia and Romania already, and they were due to hit South America next.   
  
"Hello there, you must be Wood," a voice said to his left, and he turned to face the speaker. An American, judging from the accent, and she was female. She wasn't particularly beautiful either. Soft dirty blonde hair that fell loosely to her shoulders, a much-too-wide nose that looked like it'd been broken a few times (presumably by a bludger, considering this was a Quidditch field) and a huge, puckered scar across her right cheek.   
  
But her dark green eyes sparkled with a sort of energy that made him smile right off the bat,   
"That'd be me. England's Keeper. Can't say that I recognize you, though."   
  
She smiled, sticking out a hand for him to shake. It was only then that he realized she was wearing the robes that matched the American team they'd be playing against later that day. She must be one of theirs.   
"Janet Wright." She said as he took her hand. Her palms were calloused, as though she used her hands quite a bit,   
"Beater for the Eagles."   
  
Well that made sense, considering how much she looked like she'd been smacked around. He nodded,   
"It's nice to meet you...getting a feel for the field as well?"   
  
She laughed,   
"Not really, I know this field like the back of my hand. Well, not literally, of course, but figuratively speaking. I just wanted to get a feel for the team I'd be playing against."   
  
When she smiled that scar of hers almost seemed to get wider. It was rather intimidating actually, although he was certain she had no idea that it was.   
"Ah. Well, most of the rest of the team's out elsewhere."   
  
"That's all right, I've got to get running anyways. Have to go work in a few last things before the game. It was nice meeting you, Wood." She smiled again, then turned, stalking back off the field in about the same manner as a tiger. In fact, she reminded him very much of some sort of large, predatory cat. Or maybe that was just because he was more used to girls who weren't quite aggressive enough to be Beaters.   
  
"You too." He called after her, then shrugged, shaking his head, and went back to pacing around the field.   
  
  
Author's Note: Think I'll stop there *g* Don't worry, I'll do everything I can to keep Janet from being a Mary Sue. It's just that the whole story was waaaay too amusing for me not to write it out. 


End file.
